


Hide and Seek

by Lennelle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, Grocery Shopping, Pre-Series, Temper Tantrums, Toddler Sam, Young Dean, sammy is a handful, the tiniest bit of angst ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 13:46:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7894924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lennelle/pseuds/Lennelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grocery shopping is never easy with a toddler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hide and Seek

John can remember a time when almost everyone would tell him that Sammy was _such a good baby_. Well, maybe they were right, once, but now that Sammy has got his little legs working and his sentences forming… let's just say that John has dealt with poltergeists that gave him less trouble.

Even now, as he pulls into the supermarket parking lot, Sam is kicking in his booster seat and shrieking about… something. Honestly, John is surprised he hasn't gone deaf yet. Dean is fussing over Sam. Of course he is, the kid's got a protective streak that you only see in mothers. But fussing over Sam only makes him fuss more and Sam is crying louder for more attention.

"Dean-o," John calls, turning to face the back seat. "Let him be. He needs to learn that he can't get everything he wants."

"I think he wants Ducky," Dean says. Of course Sam wants Ducky. When does Sam not want Ducky? That damned stuffed animal, which is actually a penguin and not a duck, may as well be attached to him. But sometimes Ducky has to stay at home (not really home. Home is gone). Sam needs to not get too attached.

"Well, Ducky's at home," John sighs, he turns to Sam and puts on his baby-voice. "And we're at the store. Sam just has to wait for Ducky."

If anything, that just makes Sammy cry harder. Still, John has groceries to buy and damn if one tiny little person is going to make this difficult. Dean is quiet as he watches his dad grab Sammy from the booster seat, the toddler kicks and screams until his face is red.

"Damn it, Sam!" John yelps, trying to keep the boy still. "If you don't calm down then you won't be seeing Ducky again!"

Sam freezes for a second and stares at John, balanced on his hip. Then his face scrunches and his mouth opens wide to let out the longest wail in history, John is sure of it. Maybe that hadn't been the right thing to say.

"No, Sammy, I didn't mean it," he tries to soothe but Sam isn't having any of it. "You can have Ducky, just wait until we get home."

Sam seems so far-gone with his tantrum that he doesn't even hear him. John lets the boy cry into his shoulder, tries to rock him a little but it just seems to make things worse. He needs a shopping cart, one with a booster seat on the front, those things always do wonders with rocking Sammy to sleep (Mary used to rock him in her arms and sing the Beatles). John takes Dean's hand with his free one and leads him to the shopping cart bay.

"Shi – " he cuts himself off, Dean is staring at him disapprovingly. "Shoot."

There are no child-friendly shopping carts left. John takes a deep breath, which is hard when there's a eighteen-month-old sobbing into your ear, someone must be messing with him. If Heaven is real, then he's certain there must be someone up there whose job it is to make life difficult for the Winchesters (Scorching his wife on the nursery ceiling).

He grabs a regular cart and manoeuvres it to the store entrance one-handed, holding Sammy tight with the other. Dean holds onto the side of the cart and follows, he keeps looking up, trying to get Sam's attention.

"Ducky," Sam sobs, "Da. Want Ducky."

"Ducky's at home right now," John says, trying to grab a carton of milk from the fridge, which is a little hard with a toddler tugging at your ear, "You'll see him when we get home."

"Want now!" Sam cries. Other shoppers turn and look in their direction, one older woman gazing at them with a disapproving look on her face. John turns away.

"Da!" Sam yells, tugging harder at his ear. John pulls him away and sets him down on the ground, holding him still.

"Sammy, I won't say it again," he says sharply. "Calm down. _Please_."

Thankfully, Sam doesn't cry or yell, but fresh tears appear and slip down his pink cheeks. His lip wobbles, and he whispers, "Want Ducky." (He doesn't want Mary. He doesn't remember Mary)

John sighs. "I know," he says, he leans forward and presses a kiss to Sammy's fluffy brown head. He stands up straight and takes his boy's hand, maybe he can tire the kid out by walking him around a little. Dean takes Sam's other hand and John leads them into the next aisle.

"Dean-o, would you grab a bag of pasta?"

Dean nods and hurries off the correct shelf. "Swirly ones or pasgetti?"

"Swirly ones," John answers, because both of his boys are monsters when they eat spaghetti. That's not a mistake John is ever making again.

Dean hurries back over and gets on his tip-toes to drop the bag of pasta into the cart. He scratches his nose, John stops him before the finger can go any further and hands him a tissue, and Dean glances around, frowning.

"Where'd Sammy go?" he asks. John spins around in a panic. The aisle is empty except for him and Dean, no toddler in sight. (That thing was in Sam's nursery that night for a reason)

"Shit," John groans.

* * *

He keeps a tight grip on Dean's hand because he'll be damned it he's losing another child today (He's not losing anyone ever again). And he's not making an announcement at the reception desk, he's had enough of the disapproving looks from people who don't think he can do his job.

John hurries down the centre of the store, looking down each aisle. He can't find Sammy anywhere. And thoughts are already making their unwelcome way into his head. He imagines Sam being shoved into the back of a van, he imagines Sam slipping and hurting himself, he imagines Sammy being taken by the thing that killed Mary.

(Because that thing was in Sam's nursery for a reason).

What if it came back to finish what it started?

"Dad!" Dean tugs at John's arm, "You're going too fast."

He slows down to a stop and rubs a hand over Dean's head. "Sorry, bud."

"He's okay, right, Dad?" Dean asks, "He's just lost."

John plasters on a smile. "Yeah, kiddo. We'll find Sammy in no time."

"I think he just got bored of picking out pasta and maybe he went to find something fun," Dean suggests. "Like hide-and-go-seek."

Except John has been seeking for the past ten minutes and he still can't find his youngest who could have vanished into thin air for all he knows. He wouldn't put it past Sam to try, the kid will do anything if he wants to. For someone whose age is counted in months, Sam is too clever for his own good. (Too vulnerable)

Dean is tugging him again. "Come on, Dad!" he says, "I think I know where he's hiding."

He drags John by the pasta aisle, only then does John notice he left the shopping cart there, and they end up at the bottom of the store where non-food items are kept. There are a bunch of TVs in the electronics section, one of which is showing some pop-music channel as a young blond girl dances in a crop top.

Dean pulls them past and into the toy section. The empty toy section. He stops and pouts.

"I thought he'd be in here," he says. "Because he wanted Ducky."

"You did a good job, Dean," John praises gently. "Don't worry about it."

Dean just nods and wanders over to a mountain of stuffed animals piled up high. He stops and points at a box next to it.

"What if he stood on that to get up here?" he asks.

"Dean, he's only little, I don't know if he'd…" John trails off, because it occurs to him that Sam may very well have done that. Sam is probably the smartest, and most troublesome, toddler in history (but he's too vulnerable. He's not safe). John grabs Dean's hand and they head around the corner. There's a stuffed elephant toy lying on the middle of the floor. A little further up ahead is a fluffy white seal left by a stack of video tapes.

"Looks like he took more than he could carry, huh?" John says, and Dean giggles.

They follow the trail, ending in a yellow lion, back the electronics section. There, watching a TV playing power rangers and hugging a purple cat, is Sammy. He's sitting with his legs crossed, staring at the television with wide eyes, there are a couple of other stuffed animals sitting carefully at either side of him.

"I told you he got bored of picking out pasta," Dean says.

John sighs and crouches down next to Sam. Sammy blinks away from the TV and looks up at his dad, grinning widely, he holds up the purple cat for him to see.

"Kitty," he says. "Look, Da!"

"Yeah, I see the kitty," John says tiredly. "But do you think you can say bye to the kitty now?"

Sam looks at the toy and frowns, gripping it a little tighter. "Kitty," he whispers, lip trembling. He's got that big dewy-eyed thing going on and, damn it, John never had a chance. He scoops Sam up, kitty and all, and they head back to the abandoned shopping cart.

Miraculously, Sam is starting to get sleepy by the time they get to the check out. The trip to the store took an hour, a whole hour for fifteen items, not including that freaking purple cat. And by the end of it, Sam is quiet in John's arms, clinging onto Kitty, as its been named, and not making a fuss as they make their way back to the car. (All three of them. He still has both of his boys)

A woman at the checkout smiles at Sam and coos, "Isn't he a lovely boy!"

John just smiles. Well, they say the devil deceives, and Sammy is the best deceiver there is, even if he doesn't know it yet.

(That thing was in Sam's nursery for a reason)


End file.
